


let your heart release (let those old diseases lie)

by murphysarc



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Parallels, Post-Season/Series 04, SPACE SQUAD, follows murphy and clarkes time after s4 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphysarc/pseuds/murphysarc
Summary: from above and below, clarke and murphy discover they are not that different.or, a look into the post s4 future, detailing the stories of both clarke and murphy. bellamy & murphy friendship, bellamy & clarke friendship mentioned. title from “porcelain” by marianas trench.





	let your heart release (let those old diseases lie)

**Author's Note:**

> i genuinely have no idea what this is

**i.**

Only three days into it, and Murphy finds himself staring through the one window on the Ring, with absolutely nothing to say.

The Earth burns below him. He thought he’d find it funny, somehow, to be able to see the heat from such a distance, but if anything, it causes a weight to drop in his stomach. He hated the ground, he did, but –

He hated it just a little bit less than he hates the sky.

“This is it,” he whispers to himself. It’s a cry for help, a plea for _something_ – it’s nothing at all. It’s all he’s got to say for himself.

After everything he’s done, after every road he’s taken to preserve himself, to preserve those he cares for, this is it. He’s back to where it all began.

A short laugh bursts from his throat, only stopped when he hears footsteps behind him. “I thought it’d be at least a week before someone laughed again.”

“Bellamy, you have such a flair for dramatics,” Murphy says, but it’s quiet, and ingenuine. Somehow, he hopes Bellamy understands that it’s almost always been ingenuine.

Bellamy continues his approach until he stands next to Murphy, gazing down at the remnants of the ground. They stand, shoulder to shoulder, staring, for ten minutes or so until Bellamy clears his throat. “I saw your work in the infirmary. Thanks.”

With a sigh, Murphy shrugs. “Place I’d be most useful, I guess.”

It sounded humble, but it was true. Raven had taken to repairing all the machinery on the Ring. Emori and Echo helped her as often as they could, but otherwise spent their time scavenging for parts, something they excelled at. Bellamy had taken to directing supplies, while Monty and Harper got the algae farm up and running.

Murphy had spent most of his time taking stock of the infirmary, categorizing what medicine had been left over. He didn’t know the name of most of the medications that had been left behind, but he could recognize their shape and at least one thing they were supposed to cure. It wasn’t much, but his time spent as a child in the infirmary had taught him a thing or two.

He’s no Clarke, but – well. Who is?

“There’s no radiation medication left,” Murphy says after another pause.

Bellamy looks disappointed, but not surprised. “It makes sense they took it all with them when they went down to the ground.”

It does make sense, but –

“There’s no other medication like it, and…”

“Murphy, we shouldn’t need it,” Bellamy says. “I mean, it’d be a good back-up, but we’re safe in here.”

A sigh, a shake of the head, and –

“Bellamy, Emori’s dying.”

* * *

 

Only three days into it, and Clarke has yet to move from this spot.

Her breath comes ragged as her body aches. Blisters still form on her skin, sticking to the suit she’s long since tried to discard. Her eyes are unfocused, but they stay staring at the burning, red sky.

She’s tried. She’s tried to save them, but when she stares into the sky, she can’t see the Ring at all.

After everything that she did to save their lives, after everything and everyone she’s lost –

This is it.

It takes a few more hours (or, maybe minutes) before she gathers her strength and rolls to her side with a pained gasp. Clarke’s voice has long since given out. Her throat pulses with agony. Even the breath she takes is strained.

The lab she’s taken refuge in is almost completely destroyed. It wasn’t radiation-proof to begin with, but now it is even less so. It takes Clarke a while to stand, but she does, because that’s who she’s always been.

The black blood works, obviously, but apparently very slowly.

After it all, though, after everything –

after realizing that this is indeed _it_ –

she can’t help but wonder if she’d be better off dying.

 

**ii.**

“Her suit got torn,” Murphy reminds Bellamy gently, standing in one place as he watches the other pace back and forth. “When Clarke gave her helmet, it slowed the damage, but – it was already there.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “No. There’s got to be something we can do – some way to fix it.”

Murphy continues to stare out the window until an image of a world on fire burns in his eyes. “Believe me,” he says, “I’ve tried.”

There is all kinds of sadness and despair in his words, but that is nothing compared to the utter loneliness that strikes him as the words echo across his tongue.

* * *

 

Clarke stumbles across the lab, desperate to move, desperate to escape from this prison she chose for herself. Pieces of her suit remain stuck to her burned skin, causing her to gasp with every movement. Without the wall for support she would not have remained upright.

But still, she reaches what’s left of the door and moves through it, letting the charred air further burn her lungs. It’s better, though, in the way that it’s different.

Her legs wobble and she falls to her knees, but her head remains staring up at the red sky. It looks like a sunset, if she tries hard enough to think about it.

Logically, she knows she has to find water. The lab is the best place to search for it. She knows that she’s got to turn around and fight to survive, but her heart wants nothing more than to stay in this spot, maybe even die in it.

It’s not that Clarke wants to die. It’s just – she’s spent this long fighting for survival, and this is her final resting place, staring at a sun that will never truly set.

She’s tried. She’s tried everything, and she is alone.

 

**iii.**

Emori’s proud, in the way that she doesn’t tell anyone else of her fate. Instead, she hides out of view more often as the radiation poisoning takes her, slowly, little by little every day.

Murphy watches as she shrinks before his eyes. To her credit, she takes it well. It is only when she is unable to lift her head does the smile fade from her eyes. “I love you,” he says to her, every morning and every night, and she’ll reply the same.

Other than that, they don’t speak.

“Hey, Murphy,” Raven calls to him at the end of one day as Murphy’s going back to the room he shares with Emori. “Where’s Emori been? I’ve been meaning to show her some new systems, she mentioned she was interested.”

There’s a moment where he stops, thinks, almost makes the decision to tell Raven but – it’s not his decision to make, no matter how much the words fight for release. “Been homesick,” he says, without lying. “I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.”

Raven nods, sadly but understanding. “I get it. Can’t be easy.”

“Yeah,” he says, then turns and leaves as fast as he can, because if he stays a moment longer then – well.

When he opens the door, he sees Emori with her eyes shut tight, shivering on the bed. Quickly, as he’s always done, he positions himself so that her head falls in his lap. “I love you,” he says.

It takes a minute, but then, an “I love you,” hits his ears and all is fine, even for a second.

* * *

 

The lab’s water supply is limited, but it’s enough to last Clarke until she can fully recover and grow accustomed to the environment. Every day, the air burns her a little less.

Her body is scarred. It always will be, but that is something she can live with.

Finally, Clarke grows the strength to leave the lab for good. Her days are arduous as she walks, forced to slowly move through the desert-like lands. The only bonus is that the lake that once required a boat to cross has completely dried up.

She realizes, one morning – or evening, possibly – that as she looks across the horizon, the once prominent Polis, tower and all, is no longer visible. Clarke reasons that the tower fell during Primfaiya. It makes sense, but when she thinks of the tower, her heart aches as the memories formed there come back to haunt her.

Lexa’s grave most likely has a ton of rubble overtop of it, now, locked forever out of sight, but Clarke will never forget. “I love you,” she whispers, and it is not only a promise, but a final way of letting go.

She resolves herself, and she walks, because for the moment, she is fine.

 

**iv.**

The morning strikes, and Murphy’s eyes open slowly. He’s lying in the bed, Emori in his arms, but she is cold.

“I love you,” he says.

There is no reply.

* * *

 

It takes a week until Clarke makes it to the remnants of Arkadia. Remarkably, most of it still stands. It is not radiation proof, but it was designed to last in space, so the overall structure is mostly unharmed.

When Clarke enters the place she once called home (twice-over, somehow), it is empty, as she knew it would be. Still – when she is greeted by no sound but her own heartbeat, the hardest thing to do is to keep her composure.

Once, Clarke was imprisoned on the Ark, alone, for a year. During that time she wished nothing more than to visit the ground, just once, just to see, but –

there is a cruel joke being played out in Clarke’s universe. There must be.

 

**v.**

The rest of the Ring’s crew – if you could call them that – are seated at a table together in silence when Murphy finally enters. His heart is pounding, vision blurry. Things are moving around him, but he is stuck in slow-motion, the sound of his breath in his ears louder than any words.

“Emori’s dead,” he says, but he doesn’t know how loud the words come. No one looks at him, so again – “Emori’s dead.”

At this, he vaguely sees Bellamy’s head shoot up and his face fall. The rest of the table sit in shock, sit in silence, sit in a vague state of what-the-hell-happened.

“I just thought you’d like to know,” he finds himself saying before the utter exhaustion takes him over and he sinks to the floor, eyes open but staring at nothing at all. The others start calling out, but he can’t hear their words.

If all he wants to see is her lively face again, if all he wants to hear is her voice saying, “I love you,” then he has nothing worth seeing, and he has nothing worth listening to.

* * *

 

It is only a second before Clarke falls to her knees and sobs.

The reality of the next five years is hitting her. It will only be this – approaching places she used to know, scavenging for some semblance of supplies, only to find nobody there to greet her.

Maybe it’s naïve, but the whole trek to Arkadia, a part of her hoped, _prayed_ , that when she arrived _someone_ would step out of the shadows and she wouldn’t be so _alone_ –

Clarke has never been anything but _alone_ –

Her eyes shut because that is one form of darkness she can face –

She screams, because there is no other choice.

 

**vi.**

Murphy’s still on the floor when he comes back to himself. There’s someone sitting next to him – he’s surprised and he’s not at all shocked to realize it’s Bellamy. The more he actually thinks about it, Bellamy’s been there awhile.

Still, Murphy lets the seconds tick by before he stands, mechanically going through the motions. “Where are you going?” Bellamy asks softly, but he doesn’t look Murphy in the eyes. If Murphy didn’t know better, he’d say Bellamy’s afraid of what he’ll find in them.

Murphy says nothing, maybe because he doesn’t know what to say, maybe because he’s got nothing worthwhile saying.

He takes a step, but then Bellamy’s standing and there’s a hand on his arm. “Murphy – _please_.”

This time, Murphy watches as Bellamy’s gaze meets his, and there they remain, until an “I know you visited her,” is heard. It sounds like Murphy’s voice, but he can’t remember saying it.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

Murphy nods, swallows, letting his eyes fall to the floor. “She, uh. She liked you, I think.”

“Yeah…I liked her, too.”

It’s at that moment that… _this_ , whatever this interaction is, becomes too much to bear. “I’ve got to – I, uh – bye.” Quickly, Murphy frees his arm from Bellamy’s light grip and turns away, heading down the hall. He lets his feet do the walking, lets his heart do the directing. His mind isn’t really up to it right now.

“Murphy!” Bellamy calls. He starts following him, but when Murphy takes turn after turn he can hear Bellamy’s footsteps receding and then he is alone, but, that’s not exactly a change.

He finds himself in the infirmary, surrounded by shelves he’s spent weeks organizing and perfecting. The complete inventory lies on a few sheets of paper, filled with notes that really, only he can understand, but that he’s tried to keep legible in case they wake up one morning and he’s dead.

Before, that was only a momentary precaution, but now, he can’t see the harm in that future.

* * *

 

Clarke gets off the floor because she has to, and makes her first stop the old infirmary.

It’s odd, seeing it so still, but it’s mostly untouched. A few beds still remain made, despite the radiation buzzing in the air. Still, Clarke treks forwards, examining all the storage areas and taking whatever she can find.

Her mom didn’t leave much, but Clarke supposes that’s a good thing. The thought had come up that if a disease were to start, it would spread pretty quickly in a place so confined. It had been a major discussing point between them –

She stops. There’s no point dwelling on it. Either they lived, or they didn’t. That’s all there is to this world.

Besides, she reasons, if one life were to vanish, it wouldn’t matter too much anymore. Before, she’d protest that way of thinking, but after seeing how dry and empty the world has become…she can’t see the harm.

It’s fine, though. It’s got to be. They have to be able to function without her.

She finds an old sack in the corner that she begins placing the limited supplies she finds into. Once she’s sure the infirmary is clear, water becomes the next priority. Bottled supplies will only take her so far.

But just as she’s leaving, there’s a slight _cling_ that fills the air, tearing right through the dead silence. Clarke normally wouldn’t notice, but with everything so quiet, it sounds as loud as gunfire.

She stops, waiting for another sound, but there isn’t one. Still – she waits, and she hopes.

 

**vii.**

In the infirmary, Murphy finds who he used to be – a scared child, completely alone, terrified of the universe around him.

In the infirmary, Murphy begins to categorize once more, examining all medications, working out seamlessly what most of them can and can’t do.

He doesn’t leave for three days, only forcing himself out when he runs out of water. He passes Bellamy in the corridor, receives a nod for his troubles. Murphy thinks, maybe, as long as he can keep doing this, maybe no one else will join the list in his head that Emori’s name now resides on.

It’s a list of people he can’t save –

It’s a list of people who never had a chance, thanks to him –

It’s a list of people he’s struggling to keep his own name off of.

* * *

 

Clarke’s been standing there for hours, maybe, before she decides to search the room for the source of the sound. She might as well – she _does_ have five years to kill.

Nothing’s fallen off a shelf, and she hasn’t dropped anything. There’s nothing in her line of sight that could have made a sound. Yet…she knows she heard it. She _knows_.

She gets down on her knees, scanning the floor, coming up with nothing until she catches a small movement underneath one of the beds. Slowly, Clarke crawls towards the bed, leaning down.

Underneath a bed is a girl, maybe seven, with shaking hands and frightened eyes. Clarke lets out a slow breath as the realization hits – _she isn’t alone._

“Hi,” Clarke finally says, watching the girl. She holds up both her hands in innocence. “My name is Clarke. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The girl doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t move away, either. Clarke thinks, and then asks, “Can you understand me?” She doesn’t know enough Trigedasleng to keep a conversation going.

She receives a small nod, more silence, but then the girl says, “Madi,” in a soft voice.

“It’s good to meet you, Madi,” Clarke says. “Do you want to come out from under there?”

Dry tear tracks stain Madi’s cheeks, but she crawls out from underneath the bed. Old radiation burns and scars litter her skin, much like Clarke’s, but she keeps her face composed. “You have black blood,” she says.

Madi nods.

Clarke pauses to plan, then stands, extending a hand. “Come with me,” she says. “We can’t stay here forever, right?”

Madi takes her hand and together, they leave the Ark’s infirmary behind.

She’s found a scared child, completely alone, completely terrified, yet – Clarke’s hoping, hoping with everything she is, that she found her in time to save her.

That’s what Clarke does – she saves people. And maybe, Madi’s name can be added to the list of people that she kept alive.

It’s a list in her head that lets Clarke stay sane, after everything, but –

It’s a list that she hopes to never remove her own name off of.

 

**viii.**

Things get better, for a time.

Murphy helps Raven keep the Ring functional. He helps Monty and Harper with the algae farm. He helps Bellamy keep inventory, keep everyone supported. He even helps Echo with her scavenging.

At night, he’ll still watch the world burn, he’ll still yearn for what he’s lost, but he’s been doing that all his life, so – what’s really lost there?

* * *

 

Things get better.

Madi begins to open up to Clarke, telling her about the murder of her family and how she was raised by her clan at large, but they had no room for her in the bunker. She’d hid in the Ark after somehow surviving the radiation – this part she didn’t understand.

They built a shelter in a large cave close to the fallen Ark. Clarke knew that they could’ve stayed there, built a life there, but it was too painful for them both.

Madi’s only eight, but Clarke sees so much of herself in her that as each day passes she feels a little bit closer to her.

Still, at night, she’ll glance at the stars, hoping that her friends are alive. She still yearns for what’s above and what’s below her, but for the first time, she begins to think that it will all work out in the end.

 

**ix.**

In retrospect, they should’ve known Echo would be the one to snap.

Life gets lonely – on the Ring, especially so. Murphy busied himself in the infirmary, crudely stitching up small cuts with a needle and thread. He doesn’t claim to be neat, but he gets the job done, and it’s all anyone there can ask for.

It’s one of those days, when Bellamy’s cut his forearm on some sharp piece of metal. It’s not serious, but he’s still gone to Murphy to get it dealt with. Maybe part of his motivation has more to do with Murphy than the bleeding, but they’ll never know.

“Getting close to six months,” Bellamy says. “Can you imagine that?”

And – no, he can’t, but Murphy has never been one to deal with theoreticals. It marks five months without Emori, five months since he last heard her voice.

He finishes stitching, then gives the cut a once-over. “It’ll probably scar,” he says.

The corner of Bellamy’s lip curls. “That’s nothing new.”

“Please, I’m no Clarke.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says, laughing, the sound laced with both melancholy and joy. “Yeah, well, I’ve been hearing enough about her it’s like she’s still around.”

Murphy gives him a quizzical look, enough prompting for Bellamy to explain. “Echo’s been…I don’t know. We talk a lot. She likes to bring up Clarke. I don’t know if it’s out of admiration, jealousy, or what…”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Murphy replies, but then –

“Is that what you think of me?”

Both of them stop and glance at the door to the infirmary, revealing Echo to be standing there, knife clenched in her hand. “Echo,” Murphy says dryly, “you need something?”

Her gaze switches wildly between them but eventually lands on Bellamy. “I need to be with my people,” she says coldly, stepping towards them. “I need to be with my King. I _needed_ to be allowed in the underground. I _needed_ to not be surrounded by those who would forsake all I stand for.”

“Echo–”

“I see now that this is all games,” she continues. “I see now that I am not welcome here.”

A pause, then – _“For Azgeda!”_

The motion is so quick, Murphy doesn’t register it until he’s already done it. Bellamy stands to talk Echo down. She draws her arm back, knife pointed outwards, and Murphy gets in the way like he’s always done.

They stay still, for a moment, bodies inches apart. Echo’s hand stays on the handle of the knife, the point now in Murphy’s chest.

“No,” Bellamy says, still on the floor where Murphy pushed him. “ _No!”_

Someone forces Echo away, but Murphy falls roughly. He’d have hit the floor hard if Bellamy wasn’t there to catch him.

Then Monty is there, and Harper, and he thinks he hears Raven’s voice but then he doesn’t hear anything at all.

* * *

 

They only have one gun, and it’s not a great one. Clarke can tell why it was left behind, but it’s the best defense they have – more importantly, it’s the best offense they have.

“Okay,” she says, guiding Madi’s hands on the weapon. “Remember – this doesn’t have any power unless you _give_ it the power. Do not put your finger on the trigger unless you want to shoot.”

“Right,” Madi says, feet apart, hands around the gun. She’s aiming for a makeshift target that Clarke’s set up.

“Okay,” Clarke says. “Whenever you’re ready – give it a go.”

There are a few seconds of silence, but then the shot rings through the air. The recoil forces Madi back a bit, but this isn’t her first attempt, so she’s more ready for it. The bullet lands just above the target – close enough to knock the piece of wood to the ground, but not enough to mark it.

“Good!” Clarke says. “You’re getting closer every time.” She steps forwards then, without looking, to pick up the target and –

A white cloud overtakes her vision and it’s like her leg gives out, but for no reason. She’s on the ground but – why –

“ _Clarke!_ ”

The pain hits and she gasps, eyes landing on a bullet wound in the back of her leg. “I’m sorry!” Madi yells, appearing at the edge of Clarke’s vision. “I left my finger on the trigger I – I didn’t mean – no!”

“Madi,” Clarke gasps, watching her dark blood paint the ground black. “You remember what I’ve taught you.”

It takes a couple seconds, but Madi’s face hardens. She begins applying pressure, like Clarke taught her to do – but Clarke doesn’t see if she’s doing the next thing right, because she’s not seeing anything at all.

 

**x.**

_Murphy sees her hair before he sees the rest of her._

_“Clarke Griffin,” he says, watching her turn at the sound of her name. “Never thought I’d see you again.”_

_She smiles. Though he knows she can’t be, she looks to be in perfect health. “I knew I’d see you again, Murphy.”_

_He shakes his head. “So, I’m dead, then.”_

_Clarke laughs. “I don’t know. Am I dead?”_

_“Clarke, you – there’s no way you made it to the bunker, so – aren’t you?”_

_Another laugh. “The black blood worked, Murphy. I’m still alive – or – I was. I still am, I think. Aren’t you alive?”_

_“The ship made it,” he says. “But – Echo stabbed me, so.”_

_“Can’t say you didn’t have it coming.”_

_“Shut up, Clarke.”_

_“Well. Madi shot me, if it makes you feel better.”_

_“Who’s Madi?”_

_“Doesn’t matter.”_

_He pauses. “I can’t be dead. No offense, but – you’re not the one I’d be seeing.”_

_The name goes unspoken, but it hurts him to think about, all the same._

* * *

_As Clarke looks in Murphy’s eyes, she’s reminded he’s nothing more than a boy who loved the wrong people._

_She’s reminded that she hasn’t done much better, herself._

_“I’m sorry you ended up here, Murphy,” she says. “I hope whatever comes after is better for you, and – I’m sorry for the role I played in it.”_

_He smiles, and she hopes it’s genuine. “I’m sorry, too, Clarke. You don’t deserve this.”_

_She doesn’t, but maybe it’s less about what’s deserved and more about what’s earned._

 

**xi.**

He wakes, somehow, despite the severe lack of medical knowledge the others possess.

It takes a few weeks for him to be able to move around again, but he does, and this time as he stands by the sole window on the Ring with Bellamy at his side it isn’t so despairing.

“She’s down there, I think,” Murphy finally says.

“I hope so, too,” Bellamy will reply.

Still, Murphy has absolutely nothing to say, but he’s discovering that words are not the solution to every problem.

He’ll stare at the world as it burns, and decides that it’s not a funeral – it’s a renewal, and that is something he can live with.

* * *

 

Madi’s been taught enough to save Clarke’s life, and though the wound isn’t going to scar nicely, it’s not lethal, either.

She will still stare at the stars, with a greater confidence, with the knowledge that they’re up there and they’re going to be okay, with the knowledge that they’re not that different after all.

Clarke doesn’t need to move from the spot. She’s got everything she needs.

It takes a while, but – she’s earned it, after all.

 

**xii.**

When they finally meet, six years later, it is a mutuality that forms between them.

“Heard you got stabbed,” she says.

“Heard you got shot,” he says.

They smile, and nod, and it is another kind of renewal that passes. It is not one forged form fire and cruel realities –

it is a better one.

It is one that they deserve.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so VERY different from how i usually do it so i'm hoping that it turned out well, lemme know what you think! as always, thanks for the read, love you <3


End file.
